Trick or Trauma
by starofoberon
Summary: Morgan neglects to open his present from Garcia, and it goes astray.


**Trick or Trauma**

Derek Morgan leaned in the doorway of his condo cradling a large metal bowl of assorted miniature candies in his left arm.

All up and down the neighborhood, caravans of parent-powered coaster wagons dragged hordes of tiny princesses, vampires, ninjas, pirates, Iron Men, and Queens of Hearts along to collect their loot.

Morgan was a superbly trained observer, however, and he sensed something not quite right along the street. Three obviously official unmarked vehicles were arrayed within 300 feet of his building.

This annoyed him, because Derek was protective of his neighborhood. He also felt sort of professionally insulted that something bad could be going on and he hadn't known about it. As soon as there was a brief respite between flotillas of marauding Halloweeners, he stepped off his porch and walked toward the nearest car.

Two men – local cops, was his guess – stepped out of the two front doors.

"Just hold it there," one of them said.

To him.

"What's up, man?" Morgan said. He reached for his ID.

"Just stop it right there, Morgan," the same cop said. "Keep your hands where I can see them."

Unwilling to make a spectacle of himself when the streets were crowded with families, he kept his hands visible but did nothing to raise them.

On his belt, his cell phone rang. "Can I answer this?" he asked, and the other cop called "Gun!" and both of them drew on Morgan, who pulled his jacket back far enough to see that his holster was empty.

"It's in my gun safe," he told them calmly. "Relax, guys, I'm on your side. Come on, put them away. There's kids out here. Can I answer my phone?"

The plainclothesmen holstered their weapons. "No. Just keep those hands in sight."

"Would y'all care to tell me what's going on?" Morgan asked them.

"We're here about that special little gift you gave the little Stevens girl."

Morgan's eyes narrowed. "Special little gift? Stevens girl?"

"Don't play cute with us," the elder cop said. "We've been around the block with a couple molesters before."

"Yeah, well, so have I," Morgan said. Then he gathered from their expressions that that probably wasn't the wisest thing to say. "Listen, guys, you want to come inside and talk to me?"

The plainclothesmen followed him up the walkway.

Once they were inside, he said, "Would you like to see some ID?"

The cops nodded.

He presented his credentials.

"So," the shorter cop said, "this is a sting operation?"

"On who?"

The taller cop reached into his pocket. "On whatever twisted creep tried to put this in a little nine-year-old girl's goodie bag."

Even as the almost transparent scraps of black fabric appeared, Morgan began to have a very, very bad feeling about this. He patted his pockets and bit his lip.

"Oh, dear," he said. "Listen, I have to make a call. You can sit right here. I'll put it on speaker phone."

The cops nodded.

He hit number two on his speed dial, Garcia's mobile. "Baby Girl," he said, "you're on speaker with Arlington's finest. Gentlemen, this is Penelope Garcia, Senior Technical Analyst for the FBI's behavioral analysis unit, Listen, Garcia, I know I promised to open your Halloween present as soon as I got home, but I got distracted, and I think that it wound up in my candy bowl."

"Oh, Morgan, that would not be good," Garcia replied immediately. "They're thin, but they're not edible."

"It would be worse than that," he said. "I think that whatever it was you gave me wound up in the swag bag of a neighborhood girl."

"You see, my chocolate prince, this is why I tell you always to open your presents when you're told to! Especially little bitty ones! It's easy to lose them."

The taller cop displayed a pair of very sheer, barely-there orange bikini briefs decorated with glittery black cats and began to snicker. Then he produced a similar pair, only black with glittery jack o'lanterns,

"Garcia," Morgan moaned.

"Well," she said, not the least bit unapologetic, "you're supposed to wear them, my knight in shining armor, not distribute them to the neighborhood rug rats."

"Gentlemen from the Arlington Police," Garcia said, raising her voice, "what are your names, please?"

When the officers replied, she thanked them warmly and said. "I hope you will return those sweet scanties to their rightful owner now. This is obviously a dreadful mistake."

There were a few words further, and the police left.

"Well, that was embarrassing," Morgan sighed.

"Eh, my love plum, not nearly as embarrassing as the packages I've just arranged to have messengered to the Arlington Police Station."

"Garcia, you didn't!"

"And why not, lamb chop? Isn't that what Trick or Treat is all about?"


End file.
